


Lunch Time

by OneThousandCuts



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Frog!Cloud, Gen, Humor, Slice of World Map Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 20:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20730527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneThousandCuts/pseuds/OneThousandCuts
Summary: Cloud has to pee. Nanaki is hungry. But what does one have to do with the other?





	Lunch Time

**Author's Note:**

> **Grand Horn and Touch Me are the names of the monsters found near Gongaga in OG FFVII. Touch Me is the frog.  
**The party refers to Nanaki as "Red XIII" because they do not canonically know his real name at this point in the game.

Cloud unzipped his fly and hissed out a long, relieved sigh. They’d been driving across empty, wild terrain since leaving the Gold Saucer and hadn’t bothered stopping for a break until reaching the edge of this wooded area, a few miles across the river. The idea had been to make up for lost time, but Grand Horn monsters had accosted them every few miles over the past hour, and he’d been damn near squirming for that last one. The buggy’s increased vibrating had only made holding it more trying from there. He’d almost not made it.

_ “SOLDIER First Class, but you nearly pissed yourself in battle. What would Tifa think?”_

“…We’re really doing this now?” Cloud mumbled, refastening his trousers and turning away from his freshly watered tree.

As usual, only a sharp pain behind his right eye and some uncomfortable buzzing in his ears answered him.

And there was something tugging at the hem of his pants.

“Rerebit!” a small, green Touch Me monstrosity sang out when he looked. It scrambled halfway up his leg, sticky frog-fingers eagerly clinging and sticking to the cloth. “Rerbit!”

Cloud rolled his eyes. Going on a twenty-yard jaunt into the trees just to take a leak in private suddenly felt stupid. Of course something like this had to happen. He could have easily chosen to duck behind a nearby bush where they’d stopped to take care of business, but no… Now, he was unarmed, unequipped, and their Maiden’s Kiss stock was back at the tent, where the others were busy setting up for the evening. He didn’t dare chance trying to pluck it off so unprepared.

Frustrated, he stomped his foot a few times to loosen creature’s grasp, but it held fast.

Possibly for the thrill of toying with him or because he’d pissed it off—he couldn’t tell; it was a frog—it mocked him, “Rerrebit!”

Releasing an exasperated growl, he swung back around and kicked the tree.

Its narrow trunk wobbled. Branches rustled. Loosened sticks and leaves fell to the ground and pelted the top of his head. Nearby, something wet plopped and pattered away into the distance.

Cloud dropped his leg, certain that he’d finally lost the little bastard, but instantly recognized that same sagging weight, still hanging on around his knee. Staring the beast directly into its beady, amphibious eyes, he began to entertain some less than conventional options. He could just make a break for it and hope it didn’t transform him before he drew near enough to the camp for anyone to spot him. If he was lucky, it would fall off on the way. Or he could drop his pants off here and brave the humiliation of having to explain why, along with Tifa’s, Barret’s, and Aerith’s collective giggling for the chocobo-print boxers he’d discretely acquired back at a Gold Saucer gift shop. Not that he cared for the pattern so much, he insisted to himself, but they breathed, and he had battles to fight. Comfortable underthings were a must, and times were tough. They also had nothing to do with why he’d wandered so far. At least Red XIII wouldn’t care—clothes seemed to fall outside of his wheelhouse. Or he could—

“Rebirerebirerebiribiriririre,” the frog hummed, returning his glare with mischievous intent.

Suddenly very warm and heavy, Cloud felt as if the earth was drawing him down, down, down, folding him together. His train of thought slipped away, and his eyes rolled lazily back into his head. The last thing he saw was the receding canopy above, while trunks and vines fattened into city-block girths, and tall grasses sprouted up all around.

* * *

Nanaki was famished.

But Nanaki was not interested in consuming any more human fare; not for a little while at any rate. The deep-fried funnel cakes and cheese, candied everything, and processed meats served up en masse at the Gold Saucer had not digested kindly. Even Hojo’s assistants had fed him better rations during his short captivity with Shinra, bland as those had been. Only in the past few hours had the nausea and bloating finally worn off, and now he craved natural, live meat.

It was time to hunt.

Silently, without alerting anyone, he slipped away into the forest. All manner of delicious offerings filled his snout—the dusty, sweet scents of birds’ downs, a musk that reminded him of deer or large rodents, and that slightly sour, watery tinge that spoke of any number of tree-dwelling lizards and large grubs. He salivated at the thought of a good lizard, with its jerky-textured scales. A small newt or a skink would make for a modest, relaxing meal that didn’t require much exertion to subdue, and wouldn’t disturb his companions with a bloody mess when he returned to the camp to eat.

Dipping his head, he nuzzled the dirt, gently placing one paw ahead of the next until he singled out the aroma he desired most. An extra whiff of the breeze confirmed it: Just shy of twenty yards to the east, downwind of his position, his next meal was waiting. Not lizards, though—frogs. Frogs were a special treat indeed—sweet and buttery like some varieties of white fish, and their bones had a unique, delectable _snap. _Albeit awkwardly, he had donned one of the white cloth contraptions humans wore to protect against the more aggressive species’ attacks. They were fair game.

He licked his chops and proceeded to bound forward at full speed until he reached a clearing where, much to his dismay, the meaty, froggy smell mingled with the noxious ammonia stench of fresh urine. A dehydrated man’s urine, to be precise. Nanaki gagged slightly and stopped in his tracks, turning his head to one side in disgust. For what purpose aside from blind drunkenness would anyone come out all this way to relieve themselves? An annoyed growl rumbled in his throat. The frogs were surely still here, but he’d have to rely more on his eye and ears.

“Reebrit rib?” a tiny chirp sounded from a few paces ahead as if on cue.

Nanaki prowled a step closer, lowering himself to a crouch.

The little green morsel showed itself eagerly, dancing at him on its hind legs, waving its tooth-pick front legs around like arms as if trying to signal him.

From its bizarre confidence, he had no doubt this one had unusual capabilities, but this only meant that its meat would be especially flavorful. A spicy frog, perhaps. Ready to entrap his prey, Nanaki pounced.

The frog took off in the direction of the camp, still running upright.

Curious and _starving_, Nanaki unleashed a gruff bark and gave chase.

Weaving and bouncing between the underbrush and grassy thickets, his lunch managed to evade him. As the tent came into view, it ducked into a tightly-woven, dried-out shrub and wriggled up through the twigs and spines. Unable to hide quietly, a steady peeping, “rib, rib, rib, rib,” betrayed its exact location.

Nanaki slowed to a trot and halted before the bush. He cocked his head for a minute and thrust the flaming tip of his tail forward. Smoked frog would do just as nicely as raw, and if there was a little moisture left in the plant, it might enhance the flavor. 

“Red, is that you?” Aerith’s voice called out. “What are you doing out in the woods?”

Startled, he turned to face her before the flame could catch. The interruption didn’t matter; his meal was sufficiently trapped. “I was hunting my lunch. I needed something healthier than what we’ve been having.”

Tifa appeared behind her, and both approached him. “Lunch…? Speaking of which, is Cloud with you? I made sandwiches for everyone, but he’s wandered off...Barret and Cait Sith have been out looking but haven’t had any luck.”

Aerith frowned slightly. She walked past him and separated the twisted, twiggy cover with both hands to get a closer look. “This guy’s a pretty strange looking frog. I don’t know if he’s safe to eat. He’d have to be well-done.”

“Ribireebit!” the frog screeched. 

“I assure you I can tolerate it just fine,” Nanaki protested.

Tifa pushed, “But what about Cloud..?”

“Reebi! Eerbit!”

“Don’t worry, Tifa,” Aerith laughed then, “he’s right here.” She dug a small vial out of her jacket pocket and dumped the contents out into the bush.

Instantly, the plant collapsed under a puff of smoke, and on top of it, a discombobulated Cloud lay. His face was plastered with bits of leaves and sweat, and grass blades poked through his hair. One of his pants legs was ripped around the knee.

“Cloud!” Nanaki and Tifa cried out in unison.

“How much longer til’ Cosmo Canyon?” he ground out through half-terrified gasps.

“We’ll likely arrive tomorrow,” Nanaki supplied, bowing his head and averting his eyes toward Tifa. “A sandwich sounds appetizing enough. Thank you for making them.”

“…I’m just relieved we don’t have extra,” she carefully replied.

Tifa and Aerith plucked Cloud up from the brush, and they returned to camp.


End file.
